The Meaning of Flowers
by Firekat Archer
Summary: Nations receive mysterious bouquets, then disappear. Who is kidnapping them, and why?
1. The Bouquets

**Hi! This is my first fanfic that I actually think I'll finish. It was inspired by booklet I found about the language of flowers. I saw almond means stupidity and indiscretion, and was immediately reminded of America. And so, this was born. It'll be fun. Trust me.**

**I don't own Hetalia or any of the characters!  
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><p><span>The Bouquets<span>

Russia picked idly at the bouquet sitting on his desk. It had arrived earlier that morning, accompanied by a card addressed to him.

It had seemed odd even before Russia had opened the card. After all, who put _lettuce_ in a bouquet? The purple-blue hydrangeas were understandable, but… lettuce? Honestly? Not only that, but who would send a bouquet to Russia, of all people? Albeit a bizarre bouquet, but, still…

The attached card's message was even weirder. It read:

**Hydrangea & Lettuce**

_You may be __**heartless**__, but you still have a head for chopping. You think that you are __**cold-hearted**__? _

_Just wait for Death._

Russia had gotten death threats before, occasionally, but only when he really warranted them, such as during the Cold War when he had thought about launching nukes into America, or when Germany was reunited with Prussia, and saw the condition his brother was in.

But Russia couldn't remember doing anything to warrant one recently. Besides, this wasn't even signed, so he didn't know who was angry at him for what this time. Whatever the reason, whoever had sent it, didn't matter. He would find out who it was, and make them see reason.

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><p>England woke at dawn, like he always did, yawning. The American beside him wouldn't wake until at least 8 at the earliest, and it was 6 now, so he had a few hours to spare. <em>Maybe I'll make breakfast…<em> he mused.

8:05, and the fire alarm was going off. America pulled on his pants and stumped down to the kitchen.

"What are you cooking this time, Iggy?" America asked, slightly irritated with his lover.

England emerged from the smoke, coughing. "H-how'd you know I was cooking?"

"Who else would want to set my house on fire?"

"I wasn't trying to, you git!" England snapped, blushing. However, it _was_ a reasonable assumption. "I was trying to make toast!" When his lover cracked up, collapsing on the floor, he glared. "It's harder than you think!" he snapped crossly.

When America finally had control of his laughing, he picked himself off the floor. "Why don't we go out for breakfast today?"

"Fine," grumbled England. _He_ liked his own cooking, at least.

As they headed out the front door, they tripped over two bouquets. England picked them up, turning to look at America. He looked as perplexed as England felt. Each bundle of flowers had a card. One for each of them.

"Flowers?" said America, grabbing his bouquet. "Who would send us flowers?"

"Let's see…" England said, opening his card. In flowery writing, it said:

**Barberry & Pyrus Japonica **

_You think that your __**sharpness**__ will hide the secret of the __**Fay**__. But beware, for the __**fire**__ will not be hidden by your __**ill-temper**__._

The words sent shivers down his back. Only a few people knew about his relations with the Fay. His brothers and America. No one else. And they weren't they type of people to send this… this threat. That's clearly what it was.

He looked over at America's card, to see if it was as weird and chilling as his. It was.

**American Elm, Almond, Pomegranate & Saffron**

_You think that your __**patriotism**__ is the best, but your __**stupidity**__ will be the death of you. It is __**foolish**__ not to __**beware of success**__, especially with your __**indiscretion**__._

"That's really weird," America murmured. "See how some words are written in red? It's like whoever sent this wanted to emphasize them."

England nodded. "It's the same on mine. I wonder why they're important…"

America looked at the other card. "Who could've sent these? For that matter, _why_ send them?"

"It's probably someone's idea of a joke," England said reassuringly, though he didn't feel that way at all.

"Some joke. You know, it's probably Russia. He has some sick sense of humor," America replied. "Now let's go get breakfast. There's a World Meeting at 10."

"Let's go, then," England said, and they walked to their favorite breakfast café.

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><p>Spain dropped down on the unsuspecting Italian asleep on the desk. "Lovi!"<p>

"Gaah!" Romano woke with a jerk. "Antonio, don't _do_ that!" he scolded his lover.

Spain's voice was dark. "Out late last night?"

"Yeah. Mafia stuff," Romano answered absently, his tone telling the Spaniard not to inquire further.

"Really? Then who's sending you flowers?"

"What?" Romano twisted to look at Spain. "Flowers?"

"Yeah." Spain reached behind his back and produced a bunch of red flowers. "These came for you this morning."  
>"Who would send me flowers?" Romano asked, clearly puzzled. He opened the card. His face grew progressively worried looking as he scanned it.<p>

"Well?"

"Here." Romano surrendered the card. "It doesn't say who it's from."

Spain had been anticipating a love message, maybe none, but the message scared him far more than anything like that. It read:

**Red Balsam**

_You will scream, "__**Touch me not**__" but no one will listen. For insults mean nothing when you cannot run away._

"That's… weird," Spain said slowly.

"Yeah. It's like a death threat, but it's unlike any I've ever seen." Romano looked at it again. "It's not from the mafia, anyway. This is too subtle for them."  
>He would know, Spain knew. Still… "What about someone new, someone weird?"<p>

"I'm pretty sure it isn't. It might be some nation's idea of a joke," Romano mused.

"Oh, right. I came to tell you when I found these," Spain said, remembering. "It's time to go to the World Meeting."  
>"Let's go then. It's being held in America this month, right?"<p>

"Yeah," said Spain, opening the Nation Path to Washington DC.

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><p><em><span>What the flowers mean<span>_

_Hydrangea = heartlessness_

_Lettuce = cold hearted_

_Barberry = sharpness/ill-temper_

_Pyrus Japonica = Fay fire _

_American Elm = patriotism_

_Almond = stupidity/indiscretion _

_Pomegranate = foolishness_

_Saffron = beware of success_


	2. The Disappearance

**This is a really short chapter, but I really wanted to have a cliff-hanger. Sorry! Not really. Have fun!**

**I don't own Hetalia Axis Powers.**

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><p><span>The Disappearance<span>

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><p>"Germany! Germany! Germany!"<p>

"What is it, Italy?" Germany sighed. Italy was tugging on his sleeve – again.

"Will there be pasta at the World Meeting?"

"Yes, Italy, there will be."

"Ve~ Are you sure?" the Italian asked again as they walked onto the Nation Path.

"Yes, I'm sure."

Italy went on and on about the merits of various types of pasta as the pair walked down the Path, while Germany nodded absently, going over the agenda for the meeting in his head.

They arrived outside the UN building in Washington DC.

"Fratello!" yelled Italy, spotting Romano with Spain, running off to hug the other Italian nation. Germany sighed. He was glad that the redhead had stopped bothering him, and yet… he was feeling jealous of Romano, who was on the receiving end of a hug from Italy.

The German shook his head, trying to get rid of the thoughts that confused him. He had a meeting to prepare for.

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><p>"So, I had, like this awesome idea," America said to no one in particular. He was at the podium, addressing the seated nations. Well, mostly seated nations. France was groping England (America was going to seriously hit him when he got done with his speech), and Russia was creeping up on the Baltic nations (who were huddling in fear of him). Greece was sleeping, and Japan was just nodding his head regardless of what was being said (America thought he was asleep, too). Italy was bugging Germany, who at least looked like he was trying to pay attention, while his twin, Romano, was busy hitting Spain, who was laughing his head off (why was anyone's guess). And then there was that one random nation that no one could ever remember over there by the door. Who was he again? Wasn't important.<p>

America chattered on and on about his new idea for a huge superhero to protect the world, still being ignored. "And, he could protect us from global warming!" he continued.

England had had enough. His lover was spouting nonsense (not even _good_ nonsense), and France was groping him. He sighed, getting up.

"Iggy? Where are you going?" America asked.

"For some tea. Don't worry, I'll be back soon."

"Okay! So, like I was saying, about this superhero…"

England sighed, letting the double doors swing shut behind him, cutting off America's speech. He really needed some tea.

"England…" someone said.

"What?" he turned to look at the person behind him. "Do you… wait, what are you doing?"

The person tackled him, pressing a cloth to his face. "Just making sure of something," was the last thing England heard before spiraling into darkness.

The person stood over the unconscious nation, chuckling. "I'll just leave a note for dear America… wouldn't want him to think that you ran off," he said, producing a knife.

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><p>America finally concluded his speech with, "Alright! It's noon and time for lunch! As the hero, I declare an hour break! See y'all at one!"<p>

The nations nearest the doors, the Baltics, opened them. Estonia screamed.

"What's wrong?" asked Japan, craning his head to see what had scared the Baltics so bad over the taller nations. Then he went pale. "A-America, you'd better see this…"

"Huh?" Now everyone was trying to see what was wrong. America pushed his way through. "What's wrong?"

The scene he came upon was horrific. There was blood and flowers everywhere, and scrawled on the wall in blood was the message:

**Barberry, Dragonwort & Cypress **

_As England was told, __**ill-temper**__ will not keep you safe. __**Mourn**__, for he is as good as __**dead**__. _

_The __**horror**__ is just beginning._

"Oh, my God," breathed America.

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><p><em><span>What the Flowers Mean<span>_

_Barberry = Ill-temper/Sharpness_

_Dragonwort = Horror_

_Cypress = Death/Mourning_


	3. The Flowers

**This chapter's longer… but still has a cliffhanger. No, you don't get to find out what happens to England. Sorry. And I hope I wrote the Nordics alright. They're in there for ****atramentaceous****. Hope you like it.**

**As always, I don't own Hetalia!**

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><p><span>The Flowers<span>

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><p>Italy was panicking. It had been a whole hour since Germany had pulled him away from the conference room, and he was still freaking out.<p>

"G-Germany… Th-that was a lot of b-blood…" he repeated for the hundredth time. "W-will England b-be alright?"

"Italy," Germany said.

"Wh-what if he's d-dead? What if – What if – What if –"

"Italy," he repeated.

"What if the k-killer comes b-back? What if –"

"Italy. Calm down, or I'll make you run 10 laps." Italy closed his mouth with a snap. He still looked terrified, though. Germany sat down next to him. "England's not dead. We're nations, we can't die."

"Oh."

"Besides, if the person who did that comes back, I'll protect you. Don't worry," Germany promised.

"Okay! Ve~ Germany's going to protect me forever and ever!" Italy squealed, happy, hugging the blonde nation beside him. Germany sighed. _Forever and ever…_

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><p>America was still in shock. England, gone, just like that… It didn't seem possible. He was a nation, who could have done that… He shook his head, trying to get rid of the image in his head of the blood and flowers.<p>

They were meeting again, after everyone had calmed down. It was clear that the kidnapper wanted to send a message.

The nations were panicking again. The noise in the room rose to its usual levels, then above, as nations yelled and screamed.

"ORDER!" bellowed Germany and Russia. Everyone shut up, surprised that those two were working together.

The two nations looked at each other, and Germany gestured at Russia. "You have something to say?"

"Yes. Thank you, Germany," Russia said. The room was deathly quiet. Everyone was thinking the same thing. _Was Russia the culprit…?_

"Now, I have a feeling that the flowers were important. The message on the wall included the names of the flowers. Does anyone know anything about that?" Russia asked.

America shook himself. "Well, England and I both received bouquets earlier today, before the meeting, with bizarre messages attached, a little like the one in the hall."

Romano stared at him. "Really? So did I. The message on the card was really weird, too."

Russia looks at the two of them. "Weird bouquets, huh? I got one as well."

"Who sent them?" asked France, puzzled.

"There were no names on the cards," America said. "We thought it was a joke…"

"It seemed more like a death threat to me," observed Russia. The words echoed in the once-again silent room. _A death threat…_

"What if the kidnapper kidnaps one of you?" asked Italy, fearfully. Germany watched him carefully, to make sure he didn't go into another panic attack.

"Why do you think that they would kidnap one of_ them_?" asked France, curious. "The kidnapper would obviously target moi, because of my good looks."

The nations shared a nervous giggle. Trust France to be France even in times of extreme tension.

"Does anyone have anything else to add?" asked Germany. Everyone shook their heads. "We'll continue the regular meeting tomorrow as usual. If anyone finds anything they think relates to the kidnapping, tell us then."

The meeting broke up. Everyone was worried, but was relaxing. Maybe England would show up tomorrow, saying it was all a big prank…

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><p>There was one person left in the meeting room. It was the same person who had stood over an unconscious England.<p>

"Well, now I know who my next target is," it chuckled. "Poor Russia. Too clever for your own good."

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><p>Russia was back at in the hallway, looking it over. He knew England was still alive. Nations are hard to kill, and this amount of blood was nothing like the amount one could lose and still live. Russia had personal experience, after all.<p>

"The horror is just beginning, hm," he murmured to himself. "I wonder if this person realizes what he's doing, giving us warnings."

Someone else walked in. Russia turned to look at them. "Hello, Russia."

"Привет," he said, cordially.

"Do you really think that the flowers are important?" the person asked.

"Yes, I do." Russia turned and pointed at the message. "It names them, and –"

A hand whipped out and covered his mouth with a cloth. Russia's vision went dark and he spiraled into unconsciousness.

"Two down," said the person. "This is easier than I thought."

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><p>Sealand walked down the hallway, grumbling. "I'm a country! They'll all regret it when I'm an empire…"<p>

He turned the corner, and came across the bloodied hallway. Most of it was dry, but there was fresh blood… Sealand screamed. Someone was there, but he couldn't see them anymore. His eyes were cut – the little nation was blind.

Downstairs, the Nordics heard the scream.

Iceland's head jerked up. "The-that was Sealand!" he said, and took off running. The rest followed, worried.

The group pelted up the stairs, dashing through the halls. They found Sealand in the bloodied hallway, clutching his face and screaming.

"Sealand!" exclaimed Finland. "Are you okay?"

Sealand shook his head desperately. "My eyes…" he said, voice hoarse from screaming.

Denmark moved the nation's hands away from his face. "Let me see what's wrong…"

Norway blanched at the amount of blood. "We have to get him to a hospital now!"

Sweden picked up the small nation, moving through the halls with Iceland and Finland. Denmark and Norway stayed behind to look around and try and find who had done that to Sealand.

Denmark picked up a bundle. "It's more flowers…" he said. "I thought we had picked them all up…"

"We did." Norway came over. "What are they wrapped in?"

Denmark unwound it. "It's a scarf…" he said, wonderingly. "It seems familiar…"

Norway stared. "I'm pretty sure that's Russia's."

"But it's got this writing on it…" Denmark trailed off as he realized what the words said.

**Hydrangea, Achillea Millefolium, Globe Amaranth**

_The __**heartless**__ one has fallen. You cannot deny the __**unchangeable**__ fact –_

_You cannot win this __**war**__._

"Are the others still here?" Norway asked.

"I think so…"

"Let's go get them. They need to see this. I think Russia's been kidnapped by whoever blinded Sealand," Norway said.

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><p><em><span>What the Flowers Mean<span>_

_Hydrangea = Heartless_

_Achillea Millefolium = War_

_Globe Amaranth = Unchangeable_


	4. The Prisoners

**This chapter took forever to write! But England and Russia make an appearance, so all is well (I hope). And there's more bouquets! I'm wondering if any of you have guessed my villain yet… all the guesses I've seen so far have been wrong.**

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><p><span>The Prisoners<span>

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><p>England pounded on the walls of his prison. Not that it did any good.<p>

He was in a fairly large, white room. There was nothing in it save for the nation it imprisoned. England couldn't even tell where the door was, so smooth were the walls.

England gave up hitting the plastic walls, slumping against one. He had only been awake for a few hours, but within that time span, someone (probably his captor) had seriously cut up his arms and torso.

"Damn," he breathed, cursing. Cursing his prison, his kidnapper, his lack of ability to do anything… all of it.

Suddenly, a section of the wall swung out. England tried to jump up. A door! But he fell down, still weak from blood loss.

A body was tossed in, and the door closed again, blending into the wall. England finally managed to get up and see who it was – and if they were alive.

The person moaned, and stirred. England bent over him, worried, if only because he needed some company in this prison.

"Что черт возьми, случилось?" Russia said. _(What the hell happened?)_

"Russia. You're awake." England had decided to be civil. After all, they couldn't fight each other when they had a bigger problem.

"England? Where are we?" Russia asked, feeling around his neck. "And where's my scarf?"

"You didn't have it when he threw you in here," answered England. "As for where 'here' is… I don't know. I haven't been out of here since I woke up."

"I can't believe he's the one behind this." Russia was still a little groggy.

"I know. Who would've thought that he would – could do something like this," England agreed. "Is everyone else alright?"

"Да. They were when I last saw anyone."

England sighed. "If only we could get out. Then I could at least contact the others."

"How?" asked Russia, thinking.

"Well, when he brings in the next captive, we could leap for the door, and then –"

"Нет, how would you contact them?" Russia interrupted, irritated.

"Oh. Um. I'm not sure if you would if you would understand…" England trailed off uncertainly. "I have a way. That's all I can say. I just need to reach the outside, then I can… contact them."

Russia accepted the ambiguous response. As much as he hated it, they needed help, and if England could get in touch with their allies, then they would come. Hopefully.

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><p>The person looked around at the first floor conference room. Everyone was there, except for the Nordic nations, who were with Sealand at the hospital. The only people who looked anything but shocked or depressed were the Baltics, who were glad that Russia was gone. The person was happy for them. He liked them, after all. They shouldn't have to suffer any more abuse from the northern nation.<p>

He felt sorry about Sealand, but really, the boy shouldn't have interrupted him in his work. His wounds would heal in time, though.

Everyone was freaking out. Russia, the strong northern nation (and the prime suspect), had been taken. He was nowhere to be found, and the message on his beloved scarf made it clear that he was kidnapped. Like England.

The person didn't really care, though. That just meant that his plan was working. No one would ever guess that it was him.

However, Spain was sticking close to Romano, so hid plan to take the Italian next wouldn't work. Likewise, the American was alert, and probably trigger-happy, knowing him. The person sighed. He would just have to send out more bouquets. After all, why ruin a wonderful pattern?

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><p>Germany sighed, rubbing his temples. The impromptu meeting was going nowhere. The only thing that was agreed upon was that something bad was going on. No one had stepped forward as the kidnapper, no wars were declared. Nothing. The anxiety in the room was so thick you could practically cut it with a knife. There was no silence, though. Everyone was talking, panicking. It was as bad as a normal meeting, but a hundred times worse.<p>

A couple hours in, and the doors opened. An American boy stood there, hands full of flowers. The chatter was cut off abruptly.

"Ummm…" the boy said, uncomfortable. "I have some flowers for some people I was told were here…"

"For whom?" asked Germany, taking control after a silence.

"There's 4 – Francis Bonnefoy, Kiku Honda, Yao Wang and Feliciano Vargas."

"Thank you for… ah… bringing them," Germany said, getting up and taking the flowers.

"No problem! Bye!" the American boy rushed out, glad to be away from the tension-filled conference room.

Germany juggled the bouquets, handing them out to France, China, Japan and Italy.

As he gave Italy's flowers to him, he heard Romano mutter, "More damning flowers." Germany (for once) agreed with him. Flowers were what started this whole mess, and now more were here.

He took his seat on the other side of Italy. The little redhead was shaking. "What's wrong?"

Italy handed him the card.

**White Daisy, Chamomile & Coreopsis**

_You have __**energy under adversity**__, but that will not help, nor will your __**endless cheerfulness**__. Death has no need for them, and will expunge you from your __**innocence**__._

Germany scanned it over and over. What was it supposed to mean? Did it mean that the kidnapper was going to try and _kill_ Italy? Romano came over and stole the card from the German's numb fingers.

"What the fucking hell?" the Italian exploded. "How the hell can a death threat be so… so damn flattering?"

Germany didn't know. All he knew was that he would protect Italy, no matter what. He had sworn to do that years ago, during the war, but it still held true today. Right?

His train of thought was derailed by France. "I must say, this kidnapper has a rather… unique way with words." The nations nodded, agreeing. "But since he warns of us of our imminent capturing, we can get away from him. After all, the last two were kidnapped at the meeting. So, why should we even be here? We should all go home."

This statement started up the yelling again – even louder than before.

"No!"

"France is right!"

"What about England?"

"We're safer anywhere but here!"

"Quiet!" Germany shouted. This was getting them nowhere.

"But we don't know anything!"

"Nothing happens here anyway!"

"SHUT UP!" bellowed Germany. For the second time that day, everyone actually obeyed and blessed silence reigned once again.

"Now," he began, "the first thing to do is to tell us all what was written on the cards. I assume they were all threat of some kind?" The receiving nations nodded. "France, why don't you start?"

"I am not about to deliver satisfaction to our enemy by giving his threat an ounce of recognition!" declared the French nation, standing up and casting the flowers and the attending card across the long table, then stalking out of the doors.

Silence followed his exit. Then Canada hesitantly reached out and grabbed the card. He read aloud what was written on it.

**African Marigold & Cockscomb Amaranth **

_The __**foppery **__you indulge in will not save you, nor will your __**vulgarity**__. _

_These will only serve as tools for your death._

The nations looked at him. He wasn't America… so who was he again?

Canada saw them staring and sighed. "I'm Canada. North of America… Remember me?" Some recognized him, some didn't, still staring blankly. Germany remembered his brother saying something about America's brother, but he hadn't been paying attention. The nation sighed and sat down, and everybody promptly forgot about him.

"Japan, will you read off yours next?" requested Germany.

Japan nodded, and read off his card:

**Small Bindweed**

_Your __**humility**__ is endearing but Death is knocking._

"Is that all?" asked America. "All the messages so far have been longer."

"Yes, that is all," Japan confirmed.

"Mine is also short," China said, then read his off.

**Bee Orchid**

_Not all the __**industry **__in your world will keep it from dying. _

"Italy, is yours also short?" America asked.

Italy just shook his head, pale and shaking. Romano read the card aloud, since he had it and his brother clearly didn't want to.

The heavy, tension-laced silence descended again. Germany stood. "Does anyone have any idea who has sent these, or why they are threatening select people?" Heads shook. "Please, I realize that today has been stressed-filled, but think on it. We will continue the world meeting tomorrow at ten. We will also touch upon this topic."

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><p><em><span>What the Flowers Mean<span>_

_African Marigold = Vulgar Minds_

_Cockscomb Amaranth = Foppery_

_White Daisy = Innocence_

_Chamomile = Energy in Adversity _

_Coreopsis = Always Cheerful_

_Small Bindweed = Humility_

_Bee Orchid = Industry_


	5. The Fay

**This chapter's finally done! And before I'm going to camp, too. That means no updates for a month. Sorry! But I'll write while I'm there, so I'll update when I come back!**

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><p><span>The Fay<span>

England and Russia sat in silence. England couldn't think of anything to say to the other nation, and Russia didn't seem like offering up conversation topics. England checked his watch for what felt like the hundredth time. _Only 9 o'clock._

A light snore came from the other nation, and England jumped. _Well, I suppose it is late for him. _He looked again at this watch. _I might as well get some sleep._

* * *

><p>England woke with a jolt. "Wha – where –?"<p>

Russia was leaning over him, dodging the flailing fists. "England."

For a moment, the English nation panicked, thinking Russia had kidnapped him. Then memory came rushing back. It wasn't Russia, it was someone else.

"What do you bloody well want?" he asked irritably.

"He delivered food while we were sleeping." The tall nation held out a bowl of soup.

England took it. "Thank you." Russia nodded and retreated to the other side of the cell. England watched the northern nation; he didn't seem so bad right now, only a little… well, Russia-like. But it was tolerable.

The following hours were long and boring. Neither nation had anything to say. They had talked all they needed to the day before. Now all that was left was the waiting. The horrid, horrid waiting.

England constantly checked his watch. _7 AM. 7:32. 8:09. 8:24._

The click of the lock turning resounded through the silent room. The two imprisoned nations were on their feet in instants.

"Ready, comrade?" Russia asked. England nodded, tensing. He only had a few seconds to run through the door.

A body flew in, and Russia jammed his foot into the gap. England, being smaller, wiggled past the fight between his captor and the northern nation.

"Shit!" someone else said, and England looked up to see another nation, then promptly sprinted away from him, down the corridor.

He skidded down the hall, turning the corner. There! An open window! The sight gave England hope, and he sped up. He could hear the sounds of Russia fighting the other two nations. Giving him time.

He was in luck. There were two of the Fay hovering outside the window. A Yellow Lilly and a Thorn Apple.

They giggled when they saw him. "Look! It's another nation!" said Lilly.

"He looks stupid!" observed Thorn Apple.

"Don't they all? Except for _him_."

"Ladies," England said politely, hanging halfway out of the window.

"Ooh! He can See!"

"Hush! That means he can Hear us, too!"

"Hello," they chimed.

"I'm sorry to interrupt your conversation, but do you think you can help me?" he asked.

"Maybe," Thorn Apple said.

"What?" inquired Lilly.

"I need to send a message to a friend," explained England. "Do you think you could do that?"

"Sure!" chirped Lilly.

"We can do that!" added Thorn Apple.

"Do you know America?"

"Yes!" Lilly said.

"He's the annoying one," Thorn Apple chimed.

"Please tell him where I am," England requested hurriedly, glancing back to see the other dashing around the corner.

"Alright!" they said, before flying off.

The other ran up, and hit him on the head. England slumped to the floor, dazed. A few kicks were delivered to his abdomen, and the blonde attempted to fight back, but when a solid kick landed on his head, darkness overtook him.

* * *

><p>Thorn Apple and Lilly flew away, chattering, ignoring the two fighting nations behind them.<p>

"He's pretty stupid, like I said," Lilly told her friend.

"Yes, beliving us," agreed Thorn Apple.

Two more Fay flew up to them as the pair entered the Fay hive.

"Hey, Lobelia and Teasel."

"Lilly! Thorn! Who'd you kill this time?" asked Lobelia.

"Why do you think _we_ killed someone?" inquired Lilly sweetly.

"You must've, with that look on your faces!" pouted Teasel. "Do we know who?"

"Well, we just told England that we'd tell America where he is," said Thorn Apple. "And he believed us!"

"Then that one guy who's always hanging around Him beat him up," continued Lilly, "so we _helped_ kill him."

Teasel and Lobelia laughed. "Didn't he know we're His?" asked Lobelia

"Apparently not," answered Thorn Apple.

The four Fay flew to their roosts in the hive, not noticing the shy little Rose Fay behind them. She didn't like them. They always teased her for having a long name. Her full name was Gloire de Dijon Rose, but she went by Gloire.

She, like all the Fay, knew America and England. She rather liked them, actually. She did not like her current master, however. He was mean to the Fay he didn't like, and played favorites.

Gloire had been meaning to leave for a while now, and this was the perfect excuse. She would tell America where England was, and hope that he really wasn't dead. Because that would be horrible.

* * *

><p><em><span>What the Flowers Mean<span>_

_Yellow Lily = gaiety, falsehood_

_Thorn Apple = false charms_

_Lobelia = malevolence_

_Teasel = hatred of humanity_

_Gloire de Dijon Rose = messenger of love_

_The rose is also the national flower of both England and America._


	6. Hair

**I'm so sorry for such a late update! Between real life and writer's block, it's been hard to write this. And school has started again. (pouts) I just want to write, not study! Although, this year I have World History, which may fuel my Hetalia obsession. Right now, we're learning about the Roman Empire and it's conflicts with Germania, and all I can think about is those two! **

**Anyway, on to the story. Finally.**

* * *

><p><span>Hair<span>

"You don't need to fucking babysit me," Romano complained. "I'm not damn Veneziano, who needs someone to tie his damn shoes for him."

"But Lovi, what about the kidnapper?" Spain asked, protectively gripping the Italian's hand. "Boss needs to protect you!"

"I can protect my own damn self," Romano said as he tried unsuccessfully to free his hand. Spain pouted at his irate lover, who sighed. "Fine, you can hold my damn hand. But I _still_ don't need a babysitter."

Spain brightened up immediately. "Yay! I can hold Lovi's hand!"

"Whatever, bastard, it's not something to get so excited about," mumbled Romano as they reached the conference room. It was empty, save for only a few nations.

"Where is everyone?" wondered Spain. "The meeting is supposed to start soon."

"Who fucking cares? At least there'll be less arguing."

Romano _did _have a point, Spain reflected. But still, the room was _awfully_ empty…

"Ve~ Fratello and big brother Spain are here!" chirped Italy, waving to them with a smile on his face.

"Hola Ita!" Spain called back, waving as well. "He seems to be holding up well."

"Or he's forgotten all about the damn thing," Romano grumbled, sitting down and making Spain sit as well.

"Alright, it's time for the meeting to start," America said. "Where _is_ everyone?"

"I believe they went home," Japan answered. "France was talking about doing that yesterday."

"Let's take advantage of their absence, aru," China said, "and at least something done."

"Definitely," agreed Germany, taking control as if it were a normal meeting. "Let's actually get to the bottom of this kidnapping affair."

Spain clutched Romano's hand even tighter, making the Italian scowl, and try to tug his hand free. "Damn bastard, let go!" he hissed.

Germany ignored the struggle between them, saying, "Does anyone have any suspicions they want to raise?"

"You mean, who do we suspect?" America asked. "Cause I suspect Russia."

"He was kidnapped earlier, don't you remember?" asked Germany. "It is highly unlikely that he would kidnap himself."

"But this is _Russia_ we're talking about!" America persisted. "Who know what goes through that commie head of his!"

Half the room sighed at this. "America, Russia is no longer communist, aru," China said.

"So? That doesn't mean that he's not a commie bastard and probably kidnapped England."

The entire room sighed at this.

"Why would he kidnap himself, you fucking idiot?" pointed out Romano.

"To throw us off the scent! But since I'm the hero, I won't fall for it!" America proclaimed.  
>"If you really want to think like that, wouldn't England also be a suspect?" suggested Spain.<p>

"What? No!" exclaimed America.

"It's possible," Spain continued. "He could be working with Russia. They would do it just to mess with us."

"England wouldn't do that," America said. "I wouldn't put it past Russia, but not England. not with Sealand getting injured."

"Clearly we have different memories of England," said Spain. "The England I remember wouldn't care about what happened to Sealand, much less injuring him."

The two glared at each other until Germany sighed and said, "That's only one possibility. We have to keep all of them in mind, and not let our past affairs bleed into our suspicions, Spain, America. Just because you have had bad relationships with Russia and England before shouldn't mean that you automatically suspect them."

Japan nodded. "Indeed. It could very well be someone who we haven't discussed. They could be here or somewhere else. They could even not be a nation."

His last suggestion caused a bit of consternation. Or rather, chaos. Most humans didn't know of the personifications' existence, save for a select few in the government. Any one of them kidnapping the nations for any reason whatsoever would be bad.

It was in the middle of raised voices that Canada burst into the room, yelling, "France is gone!"

This effectively shut everyone up (quite a feat, despite there only being less than a dozen nations). At least, mostly.

"What do you mean, 'gone,' ah, Canada?" Germany asked.

"He… He's been kidnapped!" Canada panted.

"How do you know, aru?" China asked. "He could have just left for home like he was talking about.

"The-there were flowers and…" the Canadian gulped, "and his hair all over the floor of the hallway. What else could have happened to him?"

"Show us," commanded Germany.

The group of nations followed the Canadian to a hallway not far from the conference room. Purple, orange and red flowers littered the ground, mixed with golden clumps of hair that were clearly France's.

China leaned down to pick up a creamy white piece of paper, with black and red words showing starkly against it. He began to read aloud the statement on it.

**Mandrake, Helenium, Adonis & African Marigold**

_You cannot avoid the __**horror**__; do not even try, lest you cry __**tears**__. France tried as you will __**remember sorrowfully**__._

_Learn from his __**foppery**__, and don't try to run._

_I will find you._

Canada, with tears running down his checks, said, "We have to find and rescue him!"

"Why is big brother France so important to you?" asked Italy, trying to keep his mind off of everything.

"France is my papa," sniffed Canada. "He's the one who found me."

"Oh, right! I remember France having a colony in the New World back then!" Spain recalled. "That was you?"

"Oui," confirmed Canada.

"Don't worry, Can…a…da, the hero will save everyone!" America proclaimed, striking a pose.

* * *

><p>Glorie watched the nations before her with despair. How could she get her message to them when none of them could see her? She had left a clue in the flowers, but of course, they were messed up before anyone saw it. But she still had to continue working on it. She couldn't not help.<p>

The Rose Fay sighed, watching the nations hover between panic and actually getting something done. _Notice me! Develop Sight!_ she willed.

Maybe she needed to work on her willing skills.

* * *

><p><em><span>What the Flowers Mean<span>_

_Mandrake = horror_

_Helenium = tears_

_Adonis = sorrowful remembrance_

_African Marigold = foppery_


	7. Tomatoes

**I totally meant to make this longer, but life just isn't cooperating with me. Isn't that everybody's excuse? Anyway, I wanted to get this up before NaNoWriMo. I'm attempting it this year (writing fanfiction, but still!) Which, I'm so sorry, means no update for at least a month. Assuming I don't get bored with trying to write a novel. But if I do finish that novel, I'll post it. It'll be good. I hope. Now, on to the next chapter.**

* * *

><p><span>Tomatoes<span>

The kidnapper watched the nations in the hallway disperse, each with a worried expression on their face. There was no way they would ever figure out it was him. Their discussions hadn't been anywhere close to him. Granted, all they discussed was Russia and England, but still. It would take a while to get from them to him. Just as well. He was on a roll, and who wants to have a winning streak ended? Especially since he hadn't even begun his reign of terror yet.

And everything as going so well, too! The plan was perfect. His partner had been skeptical it would work, and yet here they were, with 3 nations already in their hands.

But he couldn't get ahead of himself. Don't count your chickens before they hatch and all that. Or, in this case, dead nations before they got captured. The only question now was… Who next? Who would mess up next?

* * *

><p>"Let go of me, damnit!" yelled Romano, his face red. "I fucking told you, I don't need to be babysat, Antonio!"<p>

"But Lovi, I want to protect you," Spain pouted, clutching the raging Italian's hand. "Uff!" Romano had solidly head-butted him, effectively breaking his grip.

"I don't fucking need your damn protection anymore," hissed Romano, hazel eyes blazing. "Why can't you understand that sometimes, I need some personal space? That sometimes I have things to do that I need to do _alone_?" He stormed off, and all Spain could do was stand there, staring. He knew that Romano was having a difficult time right now. The mafia was acting up, and now this kidnap thing.

Spain sighed. He would find Romano later, when the Italian had calmed down. They would talk, and everything would be alright. Right? Right. And Romano could take care of himself, now. Spain always had to remind himself that his lover and little Ita were their own country now. He had nothing to worry about. Maybe Romano _was_ right. Maybe he was being overprotective.

The Spaniard wandered around the UN building's halls for a little while, and he wished that France and Prussia were here. Then they could go for a drink or two, like they used to. They hadn't been doing that lately, though. Spain's brow furrowed as he wondered why. Maybe it was because both he and Prussia were in relationships. Although, for the life of him, he couldn't remember who was with Prussia. Was it that nation, Can-something, from earlier? That seemed right. Probably.

Spain wandered down to the cafeteria. Romano had to be hungry by now, right? He was probably there, munching on tomatoes (or complaining about the lack of them) there. He wondered vaguely what there was for lunch today. There was typically food from nearly all the countries, but this meeting hadn't been exactly normal.

While most of the remaining nations were in the cafeteria, Romano was not among them. Spain sighed, and got himself some paella before sitting down next to Italy and Germany.

"Ve~ Ciao, big brother Spain!" Italy chirped, a mound of pasta before him.

"Spain," acknowledged Germany, absent-mindedly wiping tomato sauce off of the redhead.

"Hola, Ita, Germany," Spain answered, picking at his food. "Have either of you seen Lovi?"

Italy shook his head. "I thought fratello was with you."

Spain sighed. "No. if you see him, let him know I'm looking for him, alright?"

"Okay!" said Italy, digging back into his plate of pasta. Spain toyed with his food, not really hungry, before getting up to wander the halls again. Maybe he should check in their hotel room… Romano had to be _somewhere_ around here… He wouldn't have gone home… Would he?

* * *

><p>The nations congregated outside the conference room, ready to go in and debate who could have possibly kidnapped the others. Spain looked anxiously around him but there was still no Romano in sight. <em>Was he that angry with me?<em>

The doors opened, and they filled in. On the table, smack dab in the middle, there was a bright green bowl filled with tomatoes and flowers. Scrawled on the table in tomato sauce was the message:

_**Red Balsam, Goats Rue & Achillea Millefolia**_

_War__ has been declared, and the fight begun._

_Too bad your reinforcements have run away, but they have had __reason__ to. _

_Like Romano, you will scream "__Touch me not__" but you will not be headed._

_Good luck. You will need it._

Spain stared at the message in shock. His Romano. Kidnapped. He could vaguely hear Italy screaming in the background, and Germany's rough voice reassuring him, but all he could do was stare at that horrible message.

"I will find you, mi amor," Spain whispered, a vow to both himself and his missing lover.

* * *

><p><em><span>What the Flowers Mean<span>_

_Red Balsam = touch me not_

_Goats Rue = reason_

_Achillea Millefolia = war_


End file.
